Gorika - Empire Building

[This is a "fan fiction" piece set in Steven's world... before he went and changed things and I decided I wanted to keep going my direction. It doesn't exactly fit in either world now, but I'll probably change it when I get the chance. This is set in the same world as the other fiction I share in my blog... just a different country.]

The setting sun turned the distant mountains a deep purple-red, and the air in the broad valley a pale gold. The sun-lit dust billowed up from the thousands of tromping feet on the plateau carried by a breeze to the small troupe of onlookers standing on the hillock. The clatter of broken rocks filled the air, overpowering the grunted cadence and groaning complaints of the workers below. Like ants streaming from their nest, they climbed from a pit quarry in the valley, struggling under the weight of baskets filled with rock shards, and made their way to the hill a half-mile distant.

“Nitrell!” Gorruck bellowed, “You’re nearly on schedule. Maybe when I die you will be done? Eh?”

Nitrell nodded, bowing slightly, to his king. “Yes, Clanmaster. The workers were eager to impress you with their progress these last two months. Even today, they are inspired by your presence and work harder than ever.”

“You lie Nitrell.” He turned to face the barrel-chested human. “I have eyes watching the site from afar, and I know that they work because you beat them and withhold food. That is good.” Talen, the priest of Narimoran serving Nitrell, smirked.

“Thank you, noble one.” Nitrell responded, snapping to a crisp attentive posture.

Gorruck let the compliment rest in the gritty air and looked back to the bustling activity. The mound of stone shards ringing the hill rose steadily, a mirror of the young Gorruck’s growing power in Gorika. The precarious slopes of the tomb were their thickest on the northern side of the hill, tapering to a scant five-pace wide oval footprint on the southern face adjacent to his nearly complete redoubt-temple. He grinned a tusk-filled smile as the he surveyed the scene, pleased by his architect’s progress.

Raising his voice so it could be heard by those further down the hillock. “They should also know that I will send the laziest workers to the front lines. The clumsy troop holding up the other workers there can spend four tours on the Tivanican front!” He pointed to the nearby quarry road with humans and kelshay scurrying to right a wagon. “If they live, and have proven their loyalty by slaying twice their number, then maybe they will be worthy of returning to working on my tomb!”

The response of “By your order Scourgelord” echoed up the incline.

Gorruck knew the workers had built up the shattered rock construction faster than anyone expected in such a short time. He had commissioned the tomb on the eve of the feast of Ghamus, the War God, a scant season ago. Scouts went into the borderlands looking for a suitable site the next morning and one had returned with information including this grassy valley. The hill had stood out from the surrounding fields, and now, due to the clearing of trees, it dominated the dismal landscape. Today, the precarious slopes of fist-sized jagged rocks climbed nearly two hundred strides up the small mountain, not more than an eighth of the way up, but soon, the architect would need priests of the Fortifier to add forcewalls to shore up imminent rockslides.

“Nitrell, I trust your progress will be more pronounced next time I visit.” Gorruck added with a smirk. He looked to his counsel “Talen, gather the guards. We leave!” He strode down toward his horse.

“By your order, Clanmaster.” Nitrell replied, bowing. Talen whistled and made a circular motion with his raised hand. The six swordsmen handpicked by the king for these journeys jumped to their feet and mounted their warhorses. Once mounted, Talen repeated the gesture accompanied with a longer and shriller whistle, and the escort gathered around the king already riding toward the eastern hills. He watched as the King and his guards disappeared into the tree line a few miles distant, and nodded at some silent thought.

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The ride was brisk, and the horses seemed to enjoy the fast ride into the edge of the hills. The trail veered into a small valley and followed a dry creek bed to a water-carved cavern. Horses whickered and neighed as King Gorruck of Lhuranal slowed the pace of the riders to navigate the low ceiling of the cavern. The group stopped in a chamber that was cramped by the seven riders and their horses.

“Guards, remain mounted, weapons ready. Prepare for any Tivanican hostiles at Altida.” Gorruck looked at the faces of his men dimly lit by the sunlight reflected off the cavern walls.

“I can’t abide using these waypoints, sire. It’s just not safe.”

“Pomax aaren Altidaes. Kori genay Lhuranes”


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The mosaic on the floor of the cavernous room shimmered and Gorruck saw the room’s details come into focus. His gaze fell upon Verad, Imperial advisor and priest of Narimoran. Verad was frowning. Gorruck walked past him into his private rooms.

“Majesty, I trust your inspection of the construction went well?” Gorruck nodded, and motioned toward his suite, urging Verad to follow and continue. “Then I must tell you that I have gotten word that a clutch of Loyalists and Imperium mages will be here tomorrow morning to inquire about your motivations surrounding it’s construction. It seems someone was speaking of you to the wrong ears in Imperium chambers.”

“Verad, why is it that every time you meet me here it’s bad news? Just once I’d like you to have a tankard of ale waiting for me. Better still. Have a slave girl and ale with you. Close the door.”

Verad, pushing the door shut without moving his eyes from the king, responded stoically “Majesty, you know I have little time for worrying about such pleasures for myself. I…”

“Really, Verad, you should take the time. You may find it stimulating.” Gorruck sighed. He removed his belt, unbuckled the clasp that held the cloak to his armor, lifted the heavy crimson cloth from his shoulders, and started unstrapping his armor. “Who do you suspect?”

“I don’t have anyone specific in mind at this moment, sire. due to the seriousness of our impending visit, I suspect the information came from someone with privileged access and Imperium influence.”

“Thank you Verad,” Gorruck sneered, removing his chest armor. “I don’t think that I could have figured that out for myself. Tell me something of interest… something insightful. Surely, all that Loyalist training should give you some clue as to who has the influence to get a contingent of Imperium inquisitors here.”

“I’m sorry your Majesty. I have no ideas. Perhaps it would be best if we can draw what we can from the questioning and use that to sniff out our traitor. Trust me, sire, this reflects worse on me than it does on you.”

“You better find out what they are up to, Verad. That’s all I can say.” Gorruck grew silent. Yes, he thought, that is an interesting observation. There is hardly a reason for Verad to betray himself to the church.